Started our drive up to the west coast through the Stellenbosch vineyards and grapes, before cherries, apples, pears and citrus fruits took over.
5 a day no problem. No veg though.
Then timber.
And here's the fibre....... MDF etc. Chipboard in old money .
Then acres of flat plains ,far as the eye could see, looking like desert where the wheat crops had been harvested recently. Really parched, waiting for the autumn rains.
Also took in a few mountain passes up to 3000 ft. One, forested, with a Tarmac road had a very European feel.
The next on umettled roads was a bit like Arizona. 25 miles of corrugated gravel and dirt is not my idea of fun, especially when you get nutters who are obviously driving company cars approaching at breakneck speeds, kicking up more dust than a Sioux war party.
Tonto came to mind. The Lone Rangers side kick.
"Injuns kimosabbie ! "
However, the mountains through which we were passing had a grand urge ( that should read grandeur by the way ) . But sometimes a grand urge is not a bad thing when you get to my age, so I let the predictive text have its way.
Check out what Tonto means in Spanish by the way. No such thing as political correctness back in the 50s !
Anyway, we eventually arrived at our destination, Britannia Bay - patriotic, us ? - with the temperature hitting 40 degrees c.
Initial impressions that this was a strange place were driven by the fact that there were dozens and dozens .... And dozens....of serviced plots laid out for what must be holiday / retirement houses. And the very few that had been built were not fetching, either in design, or their fit into the landscape. All a bit weird, but fortunately we had chosen well with our B&B, appropriately called ' Absolute Beach Accommodation', as it was on the beach and provided accommodation - spelled correctly as well. 10/10 vg.
A truly lovely spot, run by a delightful couple, Duncan and Marina. Great room with a view of the beach and sea ; a walk straight out onto a gently, curving , white sand bay.
The place reeked of classy design and management. Nothing overstated. Nothing in the wrong place.
But the sea was colder than a sharp frost on a penguin's chuff. Brrrrr. All down to the Benguela current apparently.
Although , cold turned to hotter still the next day as we ventured out to explore some coastal villages. 42 degrees. Unbearable to be away from the car's aircon. Probably the hottest we have ever been anywhere on the planet.
The hills around Cape Town ablaze. Houses burning. Hottest day in 100 years.
Hot turned to dammed cool though as a sea fret hit our bay. Some 25 degrees cooler within minutes due to a chilling mist. 42 to 17. All down to hot air flowing over cold water.
Just can't trust the weather here .
But interesting to know it's not only Scarborough , the Yorkshire place, that suffers from this phenomenon.
So that is it for our west coast sojourn. Would we return ? Probably only in spring when the fairly flat, not very interesting terrain is covered in millions of wild flowers of every hue. A natural tapestry.
Glad we've seen it though. Another perspective.
By by for now
Old Coy
